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A Blogger's Life

I wish you wouldn’t sneak up on me while I’m pondering deeply on book prices, Young Bookhopper.

It looked to me like you were just re-reading the first chapter of Anne of Green Gables, Uncle Blogsy.

Deep pondering sometimes looks like idle browsing to the uninitiated, Bookhopper. What question is burning alone in your brain today?

Well, since they seem to be putting together a Best of Blogsy volume, I wondered if you could tell me how you write a blog.

Trying to take over my job, are you?

No, I just thought it would make an interesting blog.

It’s not so very interesting a subject.

A typical blog, then.

You will not price many books, Young Bookhopper, if you spend your time ducking thrown dictionaries.

I’ll price even less if I don’t.

Even the tiniest brain may contain wisdom. Sometimes the blog is planned well in advance, so that I can check sources and references.

Yes, elderly people have trouble finding Wikipedia sometimes.

Stop insulting me in my own blog. It’s impolite, intrusive, and, besides, I’m damaging way too many dictionaries when they hit the wall behind you. Sometimes a blog will be set in motion by a passing observation, a tiny blip in the brain of the universe. I have the set of videocassettes, for example.

I see it, Uncle Blogsy. It’s a lot lighter than anything you’ve thrown at me lately.

I do not intend to throw this, Bookhopper. It fascinates me. Or, to be precise, I am fascinated by this label on the bottom of the case—a sleeve, they call it here.

“Video Made In Mexico, Sleeve made In Canada”. But, Uncle Blogsy, who cares?

Exactly what fascinates me, Bookhopper. This information was important to SOMEBODY. And yet that somebody who cared was careless.

Can someone who cares be careless, oh fount of weird wisdom?

If the buyer of this set had been like half the donors to the Book Fair, they would have thrown the sleeve away. Then not only would no one know the sleeve was Canadian, but the origin of the videos would be lost as well.

This will not keep me awake at night, Uncle Blogsy.

If you’d quit ducking, I’d put you to sleep right now. If you are so difficult to impress, Bookhopper, look at this pile of books. They are all autographed: the autobiography of a government official whose name was in the paper nearly every day, the autobiography of a legendary actress, a battered paperback novel, an essayist whose name once breathed wit and sophistication, and a little bit of fiction Uncle Blogsy put together. Which do you think brings the most money in the book market of today?

That’s not a fair question, Uncle Blogsy. Not while you’re holding a Webster’s Unabridged.

It’s the third edition, Bookhopper: it’s less weighty than the others. It is the battered paperback novel, Bookhopper. A signed copy of twilight, even in this condition, beats a book signed by Ginger Rogers or Alexander Woollcott, and roughly fifty times the price of Edwin Meese’s signed volume. His book is worth the least of any of the books in the pile.

Would it be worth less than your book if HE were the one in charge of pricing, Uncle Blogsy?

You acquire wsidom, Bookhopper. Stand still and you’ll acquire a set of Britannicas. WITH yearbooks.